A/N: Written for Dramione Lurver as part of the HPFC Secret Santa. Merry Christmas!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"You cannot leave everything to fate - she's got a lot to do; sometimes you must give her a hand." - Ever After

The day Scorpius Malfoy decided to give Fate a hand was a snowy day maybe a week before the beginning of the Christmas holidays.

It had taken him over three years to do it- three years of watching Rose Weasley across classrooms and daydreaming about her kissing him, talking to him, heck, just looking at him with anything other than contempt and loathing.

But, of course, that was impossible. She was a Weasley and he was a Malfoy, she was a Gryffindor and he was a Slytherin; they had to hate each other- it was almost a law.

Almost a law.

Falling in love with a girl whose family is hated by your family and whose house is hated by your house was not an especially smart idea but at eleven, when he had first spotted her across the crowded dining hall and been smitten, Scorpius had not been known for his especially smart ideas. And once it had started it was impossible to stop.

His first three years at Hogwarts were a blur of daydreaming (and real dreaming) about Rose Weasley: her curly red hair, her freckles, her brown eyes, her laugh, everything. Then somewhere between third and fourth year she became taller, curvier- and even more gorgeous- and Scorpius went from merely fancying her to being completely and utterly in love with her.

This was a problem because Rose continued to ignore him unless it was to send a disdainful sneer in his direction or to mock him in the least subtle way with whispers to her friends.

So, it was on that cold day a week before the end of term that Scorpius took matters into his own hands.

He decided that Fate, that metaphorical (or was it metaphorical?) force which seemed to control everything that happened in the universe, was not doing her job properly.

Fate was supposed to do stuff like this for you. If you were in love with someone, Fate would see to it that they loved you too, or at least noticed that you existed.

Well, that was what his mother's many romance novels and magazines, which Scorpius read occasionally when he was bored during the holidays, said.

But with Rose Weasley and himself Fate was not doing this in any way, shape or form and Scorpius guessed that she was rather busy with everyone else in the universe and therefore didn't have the time.

He would have to give her hand.

Scorpius did this in the only way that fourteen-year-old boy knows how.

He threw a snowball at her.

The snowball in question was a magnificent creation which Scorpius had spent several minutes forming into a compact round ball and had thrown at the unsuspecting Rose.

It did not land in her face- that would have been too cruel- but on her arm, splattering across her coat and causing her to turn round angrily to see who her attacker was.

Most likely expecting to see a group of first years messing about, she seemed surprised to see Scorpius but only for a tiny amount of time. When she registered who it was, her lips curled into a sneer.

"Malfoy."

"Hi, Rose," Scorpius grinned, realizing that, to avoid looking like a complete idiot, he probably should have thought about what he was going to say after the snowball had hit its target.

"What was that for?"

"I was just, you know, I thought I might..." He trailed off a snowball smacked against his shoulder.

He hoped that this meant that the tension had been broken until he saw Rose's face which indicated not playful revenge but all out war.

Still, it was an improvement from her ignoring him.

But when Rose's second snowball- which was extremely hard and more ice than snow- hit him in the face, Scorpius changed his mind and decided that it was probably best when she was ignoring him.

Brushing the remains of it from his eyes, he noticed that Rose was now laughing. He wasn't quite sure what had happened to her face showing all out war. Perhaps it had vanished when she saw his expression after the snowball hit him.

Unfortunate, but probably true.

Scorpius, however, was not going to let her off that easily.

Over the past three years he had been trained by his roommates, who were all absolute menaces when snow was on the ground, and he now considered himself pretty damn good at snowball fights. He had discovered last year that he could throw ten snowballs in thirty seconds, a trick which he promptly exhibited to the laughing Rose Weasley.

Thus followed a raging battle of snowballs between the two of them. Rose had, after all, grown up with many cousins and was therefore not bad at snowball fights herself. And she wasn't used to being beaten by anyone, except said cousins, and this made the battle even more frenzied.

"Merlin, you're good with a snowball, Malfoy," Rose admitted after ten minutes of fervent throwing.

Scorpius nodded. "Yup, I'd even go so far as to say that I was better than you."

It wasn't exactly the passionate love moment that Scorpius had been hoping for but it was certainly a start. They were friends now, that couldn't be denied, and could they be something more than friends?

Well, that was up to Fate. Scorpius had given her enough help for now. She would have to do the rest herself.